Utopia
by Elf of Mischief
Summary: There was a time Draco Malfoy thought he would never know the feeling of true happiness again. A world away, back turned to all he knew, he finally found it. When a freak accident lands a certain bushy haired, know-it-all in his care, he stands to lose everything. Will his story be enough to keep her from alerting Wizarding Britain there is still one Deatheater un-captured?
1. Chapter One

_**Chapter One**_

* * *

 **~Draco~**

Famished, there was no other word to describe my current state as I kicked off my work shoes in the wide entrance, stowing them away in the open cupboard while simultaneously dropping my car keys in the cream bowl.

I followed the sounds of the late afternoon radio station through the house and into the main living room. Never would I tire of seeing the welcoming smile of my wife. Despite the trying afternoon, I grinned back, before noticing hers did not reach her cheeks, like it usually did.

"Alright, Ellie?" I crossed the living area as she leapt up from the lounge where she'd been reading.

"Yeah, why? How was your day?" She met me, pulling me into a gentle embrace I automatically reciprocated.

"Busy, and it's not even the weekend yet." I murmured against her sun-kissed waves. "Where shall we go for dinner this evening?" It was minuscule, but her body stiffened against mine.

"I thought maybe I could cook, and we'll stay in?" Her voice hummed against my chest. I frowned, glad I faced away from her. Something was up. We always dinned out on a Friday night unless one or both of us were on a shift.

"That sounds lovely." I shifted, pulling away to look her in the eye. "You are alright?" She nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You're not though! What did you do, spill chlorhexidine on yourself? You reek of it!"

"Something like that." I couldn't help but smirk, recalling the adorable little blonde three-year-old I'd treated today on the condition he swabbed my arms down with the antiseptic liquid.

"Go have a shower, I'll start dinner." Ellie shoved me lightly towards the stair, and I obediently made my way up to our quarters. Inside however, my mind worked on overdrive. Something was wrong with my girl, and I would find out what before we'd finished dinner.

 **~Ellie~**

I pulled a bottle of white from the cabinet and stared at the rustic themed label and elegant script. No, wine was now off the table. Stomach roiling with nerves, I put it back and shut the glass doors, hands shaking.

How was I meant to tell him? We'd never discussed this, and I was sure he didn't want this. I felt guilty for the excitement I'd felt upon finding out. Now I was scared. He or she would be just like Draco. He'd explained it once, years ago, magical blood dominates. Swallowing hard, I moved back to the stove, adding the final ingredients to the carbanora sauce and stirring it in quickly to the hot saucepan of diced chicken breast.

By the time Draco entered the kitchen, I'd plated up for the two of us. "Smells divine." He murmured, taking down two wine glasses and going to the wine cabinet. I stared at him, panicked. "What do you think, the Kingston Estate Pinot Gris?"

"Uh, I'll just have water." He looked up from perusing the back label, grey eyes catching mine, searching. "I think I'm a bit dehydrated from this morning." I'd had a workout with our friend and work college, Steph, so it was plausible. Plus, I had thrown up directly afterwards upon smelling someone's cheap perfume, not that Draco needed to know that. He nodded, storing the wine away and instead filling the glasses with water from the fridge. "Then we'll both have water."

"Eat in the lounge?" I asked, hoping he'd agree, and I could use the TV as a distraction from his calculating gazes.

"Absolutely not, this smells too good to be wasted by television distractions." He strode into the dining area with our drinks and water pitcher, and I followed with our plates, stomach now so tied up in knots, I was unsure if I could eat.

 **~Draco~**

"You're not eating much." I gestured to her barely touched bowl. She'd drunk all her water though; perhaps she was just dehydrated like she said. No, she was almost nervous, something was wrong. And all these subtle distractions, they most certainly weren't subtle to someone like me.

"I'm not very hungry." Well finally a straight answer from her!

"Any reason why?" It was time to find out what this was all about. Ellie hadn't acted anything like this for a long time, since before I asked her to marry me, and then that other time before that. Both had been to do with my magic and these ridiculous insecurities she'd had. Wait, was this the same?

"I had a late lunch." She was lying. I knew by the way her sea-blue eyes darted down to the tabletop, away from me. I put my fork down, deliberately pushing my bowl away. The action gained her attention and the brief, panicked look I received made my heart thud with dread.

"Ellie, this isn't you. We talk... why won't you tell me what's wrong?" She stared back, the one person I loved more than anything, who I'd do anything for, debating whether she could answer my question. Was this it, was she going to tell me after everything, we were over? Was she sick? Oh Merlin, if she was sick... I'd rather it be over than anything happen to her…

"Are you sick?" I choked out, the dark recesses of my mind dredging up the worst. Her nervous, short laugh made me start.

"No, I'm not sick..." She trailed off, grimacing at her barely touched bowl before quickly finishing off her second water. Relief swept through me, followed by more dread but before I could ask if it were me, our phones simultaneously went off. I fished mine from my pocket as Ellie leapt from her chair and hurried into the kitchen where she'd left her own.

"Symons." I greeted the voice at the other end.

"We've got a situation, seen the news?"

"No, what are we talking?"

"Serious crash, two busses involved, both full." I closed my eyes in horror as he rattled off the rest. Fatalities, intensive care, two private vehicles involved, pedestrians, victims still trapped in the wreckage, and an explosion. "We need you, and Ellie." Symons finished.

"We'll be there in five." I answered, knowing whatever was bothering Ellie could wait. A moment later she appeared, her entire demeanour changed as mine was. We had work to do, with not a moment to lose. Lives hung in the balance.

* * *

 _This is an idea I have been playing around with for a while, bit of a twist on Draco's redemption after the war._

 _Reviews welcome._


	2. Chapter Two

**_Chapter Two_**

* * *

 **~Ellie~**

It was quicker to jump on our bikes to get to the hospital instead of negotiating the Friday night traffic. We rode in silence, Draco's mind no doubt where mine was at; those poor people who'd been caught up in such a horrific accident.

At the Emergency Department staff entrance, he suddenly turned to me, grabbing my left hand, rubbing his thumb over my wedding band. "Are we alright?" There was such a vulnerability in his voice, his eyes, I did something I wouldn't do so publicly in our work environment. I reached up, kissing him firmly.

"Yes, I promise." His shoulders relaxed, and I cursed myself for my fears causing his own.

"I'm glad."

"Let's go do our thing." I winked, which dragged a self-assured smirk to his lips, before we walked through the double doors. There we parted to the gender separated change areas. It could be either minutes or hours before we would speak again.

…

"The next arrivals will have to stay here until there's space on the wards." I mused to my colleague, Adam, who'd just reported how many more crash or explosion victims would be arriving. Apparently, the rescue teams were confident it was the last of the trapped, and there were some in a critical way.

"Unless they end up down in ICU..." He muttered. I raised a brow at him. We couldn't think like that, but this was the worst mass accident to ever befall the city. The night wore on us all. So far, we'd lost four people in ED alone. Five more passed in ICU.

A call over the PA system alerted us to the first of the new arrivals and with a determination to ensure my next patient survived, having lost an elderly man an hour earlier, I washed my hands and hurried to the swinging double doors. A stretcher rushed in, a small child at its head. My heart stopped a moment, before restarting again and I quickly exchanged information on his condition with Mel, a paramedic I'd seen all too much of tonight.

No sooner had Mel run through his condition, the boy started convulsing, fresh blood spilling from his pale lips. "X-ray, now!" I instructed as the paramedics slid the boy over to one of our beds and rolled him safely on his side, ramping up the sides of the bed to keep him from falling out. A nurse re-hooked him up to oxygen on one of our tanks as four of us pushed him into radiology.

"Shit." Gavin, our head radiologist cursed, seeing the boy. "He needs CT."

"He's not still enough. X-ray on his chest, ultrasound if needed." I replied. "What's left in the blood bank? He's A Positive."

"We've got that." Someone replied from behind me and raced off.

"Gavin had the boy X-rayed and the results to me in moments and then we were rushing him into theatre, and I was hastily re-scrubbing up with Adam at my side as someone else suctioned the blood from the boy's upper airways. He was only a child, he couldn't die, he couldn't.

 **~Draco~**

"Draco!" I spun on my heel, abandoning the patient notes I'd been checking over to face one of the nurses, Izzy. "We've got another one, head trauma." Nodding I returned the notes and strode out to meet my next patient.

"Female, early twenties, no ID on her. Serious head trauma to the frontal."

"Lobe damage?"

"Unlikely but Cat her." I nodded. "Blood loss from left leg injury and head injury. She's had half a unit of O Neg, but that's all we had and not nearly enough to get her out of danger. Three, maybe four broken ribs and right arm dislocated."

"Right." I observed the unconscious form, tangled auburn curls trailing to splay over the pillow as the nurses and another paramedic shifted her from ambo stretcher to one of ours. She looked familiar, something about her face... "Let's get her x-rayed." I made a quick scribble to her notes. "Someone get a unit of O Neg, I want her hooked up immediately." My gaze moved over Izzy's shoulder, sighting Ellie. She was leaving one of the theatre rooms, arms tight around her middle, head down. Shit, had she lost a patient?

"This fell out of her pocket when we shifted her." Izzy interrupted my worries, holding up a narrow object about the length of an office ruler. I stared a full several seconds at the wand she held out before coming to my senses and taking it. My own magic immediately thrummed through my veins. I hadn't held a wand since the war...

"Looks like an artistry implement of some kind. I'll be sure it stays with her." I replied, carefully pocketing it, following them into radiology. While they set up, Izzy helped me remove the bandage from the woman, well witch's head. It was an injury to her forehead, and while deep her brain was probably fine. The scans would show more.

While they scanned her, I wondered again at her identity. If I recognized her, and she was a witch, I needed to know who it was. I took her wand out, examining its design for some clue. My mind flashed back to third year, this very same wand thrust at my throat, before an irate Hermione Granger, punched me.

"I know who she is!" I called out to no-one in-particular, as someone entered the room.

"Draco, there's no O Neg left, the bank's depleted."

"What!" I stared back at the unconscious witch as scans were complete and Gavin now x-rayed her rib area.

"We haven't any more O Neg."

"Shit." I wracked my brain. If only I had a blood replenishing potion... not that I had the ingredients to begin to brew one, and if I did, I was surrounded by muggles. I needed O Neg… Ellie. "Get Ellie, now!"

 **~Ellie~**

"Draco needs you." I nodded, donning clean scrubs and retrying back my hair before pushing my Nikes back on. The young boy, I hadn't been able to save him. His spleen had ruptured, adding to his injuries, and he'd died under my useless hands.

"Elle?" I looked up at Alexa, her brown eyes filled with compassion. "Adam said there was nothing you could have done. Don't beat yourself up." I sighed, nodding as I followed her back into the night's madness, running a hand across my stomach, pushing back just how much it hurt knowing there was a mother out there who would never see her child again.

"Ellie." It was so good to see him, and I wanted to just run into his arms and cry, but that could wait.

"We are out of O Neg in supplies, she's only just hanging in there." Draco gestured to the deathly pale, curly haired woman lying unconscious on the stretcher.

"Okay, let's get set up." We were both blood donors, and I was O Negative a universal donor, meaning anyone could receive my blood.

While one of the nurses, Izzy, quickly set up for the transfusion, I checked over Draco's patient. Her heart rate was elevated, and the blood pressure reading stated it was dangerously low. I didn't want to think how she'd lost so much blood.

Finally, Izzy was ready, and I sat as still as I could in a chair whilst Draco expertly inserted an access line into my forearm. I hadn't had one put in since we were med students practicing on one another, and although he was now exceptionally good at getting them in patients' veins, I still winced. Glancing at the woman in the bed, I chastised myself. One needle was nothing compared to the pain and danger the victims of that accident had and still were going through. The lives lost.

I watched as Draco flushed the pre-primed line with saline before drawing back. "Perfect." He murmured, removing the syringe to twist a connector on the end. Within seconds, I was connected to one of the machines on the IV pole, my blood slowly making its way along the thin tubing, into the machine and then across to the second one which Draco's patient was connected to.

Izzy had left, and checking the woman again, Draco made notes before kneeling at my side. I studied his face, noting the dark rings under his eyes.

"I know this is unconventional, but I couldn't have her die." He ran a hand back through his hair and sighed. "Her name is Hermione Granger, she went to school with me." I know my eyes widened, and I won't lie, a sliver of fear crawled cold across my skin.

"Will she recognize you?" He gave a short bark of laughter.

"No doubt she will. I'm not exactly the type which blends in." I nodded, shifting to rest my free hand on his arm. Draco had a habit of attracting attention wherever he went. White-blonde hair, mercurial eyes and looks and a tall build that could kill. No, he did not blend in.

"Do you think she will say anything?" I worried aloud.

"Maybe, I don't know." He flashed me a smirk, suddenly twirling a carved and polished stick between his fingers. "I've got her wand, so at least I'll have the upper hand to begin with-"

"But you're worried."

"I imagine she is rather high up in their politics and what not now. Hopefully she'll go on her way and leave me be." He pocketed the wand before scrutinizing me. "Feeling alright, no side effects?"

"I'm fine."

"You didn't eat dinner in the end."

"I had that late lunch." I pointed out although I knew it was lame. By his raised brow, I knew he didn't believe my lunch excuse from earlier.

"Yes, the 'late lunch'." He rolled his eyes.

"I'll explain, just not now, when we are home again." He stood, pressing a chaste kiss to my forehead.

"As long as you are well, that is enough. I can wait."

"Thank you." I whispered, suddenly wanting to cry again. I shook my head, clearing it while his back was turned checking on his patient. A witch! Not just any, one who knew him. One who might turn his world back upside down.

* * *

 _Reviews welcome. :)_


	3. Chapter Three

**_Chapter Three_**

* * *

 **~Draco~**

Ellie's nose screwed up in discomfort when Izzy pulled the access line from her arm. They were nasty little things, and I prided myself on making the process of putting them in as quick and pain free as possible for my patients.

"You're a bit pale, have some more to drink before you head back out." The nurse insisted, thrusting a bottle of orange and mango juice at her.

"I'm fine, just cover it so I can help Steph." She fretted. The last victim of the accident, our friend Steph, had just been rushed in.

"Let her go." I instructed and with a grimace, Izzy stepped back as Ellie leapt from the seat she'd spent the past half an hour confined to. Immediately she swayed, and I grabbed her arm, steadying her. "Ellie?"

"Got up too fast." She muttered, hurrying from the bay. Staring after her until she disappeared around the corner, I hoped I hadn't caused her any harm. If only she would have eaten the sandwiches Izzy had fetched her. As for the juice, she'd only downed half of it. A measly cup's worth!

"If she's no use, Adam will send her to rest." I rolled my eyes at Izzy.

"It's Steph, she won't go and rest."

"Thank God it is nothing too serious."

"Yeah..." I trailed off. From what we knew, Steph had suffered severe smoke inhalation and a sprained hand. She'd come in unconscious, which had initially scared us all half to death. There was still a slight risk of damage to her airways, but she was under observation, and now Ellie was free, she would be watching her friend's symptoms like a hawk.

"You should take a break." Izzy commented as I rubbed at my forehead. "She's stable." I turned back to check over Hermione Granger's still form.

"It's alright, I know her. Went to school with her."

"In England?"

"Uh yeah." I agreed. Although part of me wanted to rest as an excuse to flee her presence and hopefully avoid all the trouble she could cause me, another part wanted to be there when she awoke. Wanted her to know it had been I, Draco Malfoy, ex death eater, ex blood-supremacist and ex-hater of muggles, who had saved her life using muggle methods. Prove to someone from my old life I was not the same boy strung up like a puppet but changed. Evolved.

"Alright. Anything I can get you?"

"A cup of tea would be nice." Izzy gave a tired smile, leaving the bay, and I took the seat Ellie had vacated. My mind drifted back to her, to dinner, to before. Just what did she need to tell me?

 **~Ellie~**

"You were right Steph." I whispered to the unconscious but thankfully stable form of my friend. Adam had gone for a break, leaving me to watch over her. It seemed the smoke inhalation from the bus explosion and resulting fumes from the fire had not raised her Co2 levels too badly.

"Right about what?" A hoarse voice whispered.

"Steph!" I practically leapt to her side. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a victim of Mt Vesuvius." She wheezed out. I checked her sats. "What's my o2?"

"Sitting at ninety-seven, but you are on a mask. We haven't risked taking it off while you've been out to it." I studied her ashen face. "Do you have any pain anywhere?"

"Chest is tight and feels shit." I nodded, only able to imagine as I took down notes. "My wrist hurts."

"Its sprained. Nothing serious."

"Head feels like someone took a mallet to it."

"That's from the smoke. You have no other injuries thankfully."

"Won't complain." She whispered, coughing a little. "It was bad out there." I swallowing hard. From patient to patient, we'd all drawn conclusions on just how bad it had been.

"The wards are filled up, including thoracic, so you'll be here overnight at least. I've written you up for Salbutomol, and you're on two litres of oxygen."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, and IV fluids." I added, knowing Steph would want to know exactly what we were doing with her.

"So, what was I right about?" I grimaced. Typical Steph trust her to be half dead and still bug me for info.

"This." I touched my stomach, unwilling to say anything more when we could be overheard. Her tired eyes widened.

"Oh my God!"

"Shh!"

"You haven't told him?" I shook my head, and she scowled. "Draco is here, isn't he?"

"Yeah, we were both called in before I could tell him."

"Well, go tell him now!"

"We're at work!" I hissed back.

"Shit, have you rested, had a break? What's the time?"

"Four in the morning." I replied, glancing out to a wall clock.

"You look really pale, you should take a break."

"I agree, Elle go and eat or something, you look like you're going to collapse." Adam had returned, and his authority was not something I could easily refute. I stared back at Steph, unsure.

"I'm fine, go and rest. I'll be here still when you come back."

"Aright." I turned to Adam. "Ventolin neb, it's set up to give her."

"No problem, now get out of my sight." He grinned, shooing me away.

 **~Hermione~**

Everything was blurry and dark, and my head pounded a sickening rhythm behind my eyes.

A figure cut in and out of focus, moving about me. Pressure surrounded my left arm as if someone were grabbing at me and I fought to remain calm. I needed to figure out where I was.

My vision slowly grew clearer, and I began picking out features on the tall figure. Pale blonde hair, a stethoscope slung across broad shoulders, the subtle scent of expensive cologne mixed with poignant antiseptics. He was standing to my right, swiftly writing notes in a thin blue folder, mouth slightly crooked as he partially bit the corner of his bottom lip as if in deep thought.

He must have sensed my staring, because he looked up from his notes, silver-grey eyes meeting mine. "Hello Granger." It was deeper, perhaps husky, but I'd know that voice anywhere and it set my blood freezing within my veins.

"Malfoy." I breathed out, panic beginning to set in. "You're dead. You died." He cocked his head curiously before a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"Surprise, I'm not." I fully took in his form. Stethoscope, medical scrubs, badge stating he was a registrar. A doctor... Or was this a trick?

"Where's my wand?" I was stripped of my clothes, wearing instead two hospital gowns. It wasn't until I made to sit up, pain seared through my chest.

"Don't move, you've got fractured ribs." Malfoy held up a hand, the other hastily pulling something from the pocket of his trousers. "I was keeping it safe." He held out my wand as I re-caught my breath through the pain. I focused on silently summoning it, but my head throbbed at the effort. Reaching out, I grit out the two words which had my wand flying from his hand and into mine.

His expression changed immediately once I had my wand pointed at him. Broken bones or not, I was not going down without a fight. "Granger, you're not in danger here." He held up his hands, and I wondered where his own wand was, why he wasn't retaliating. The curtain behind him shifted and a blonde-haired woman appeared. I turned my wand on her, uncertain if she was a threat. Her startling blue eyes widened in fear, hands dropping whatever she had been holding to wrap protectively around her stomach as she took a step back.

"Granger, for Merlin's sake stop pointing that thing about, you're scaring my wife." Malfoy hissed. I felt a protective shield form between myself and the blonde woman. Shakily, I lowered my wand, staring back at her.

"I'm sorry." She gulped, nodding. Guilt tore through me. I'd just threatened a pregnant woman. Wait, Malfoy had said his wife? She was a witch then, but where was her wand?

"Ellie?" Malfoy questioned, moving towards her in apparent concern. I noticed now she was unnaturally pale, her breath coming out quick and shallow.

"I'm fine, I..." I stared in shock as the women's eyes fluttered and she began falling. Malfoy, already by her side, caught her up, easing her slowly to the ground with him.

"Ellie, shit!" Enraged grey eyes locked onto mine. "What did you do to her!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Bullshit!" He snapped out, turning back to the unconscious woman cradled in his arms. "Ellie, come on wake up."

"Malfoy, I promise I didn't harm her." Shaking, I did the only thing I could to help; I reached for the controller situated within hands reach on my bed and pressed 'Emergency'.

Within seconds I heard running feet. A brunette nurse followed by another doctor and two more nurses burst past the curtains.

"What happened?" The brunette nurse and doctor simultaneously asked.

"She just collapsed." Malfoy replied as they worked around him, attaching monitors to the woman.

"Her blood pressure is quite low, that's why she's passed out." The other doctor clarified with a frown. "How many units did she give earlier?"

"Only a unit. She donated only six weeks earlier." The doctor, whose name tag read, Adam, nodded.

"She's meant to be on break, eating."

"Looks like she had intended to eat." The brunette nurse, whose name tag said Izzy, replied. I watched as she retrieved an unopened container of yogurt from the floor.

"I'm such an idiot, she hasn't eaten since maybe lunch yesterday. I just let her go back out there without eating anything." Malfoy groaned. "She did say she was dehydrated when I came home today." He added.

"We'll put her on fluids, she's stabilizing again." Doctor Adam, decided, and the nurse disappeared, returning with a stretcher. Malfoy carefully scooped her up to lie on the clean sheet and a hospital blanket was draped over her. Then she was wheeled out of sight. Malfoy looked conflicted, eyes darting to the curtained exit and back at me.

"I uh..."

"It's alright Draco, I'll keep an eye on your patient." The doctor named Adam reassured, picking up my notes.

"Ok, uh she just woke up, sats normal, blood pressure low end of normal, likely suffering concussion. Pain from ribs-"

"Just go, Draco." With a grateful nod, Malfoy practically ran from the bay.

"Miss Hermione Granger?" The doctor now observed me curiously. I nodded, glad I'd put my wand out of sight under my pillow after calling for help for the woman who was apparently Malfoy's wife. "My name is Adam."

"Can you tell me where I am?"

"You are in the Emergency of the Gold Coast Hospital."

"Why am I here, why is Malfoy here?" None of this made sense. I'd been with my parents; how could I be here and injured? I was certain it had something to do with Malfoy. He was supposed to be dead. There were still small groups of Voldemort's followers, not Deatheaters but supporters of his cause, which had not been captured all those years ago at the end of the war, it seemed if Draco Malfoy was alive when everyone in Britain thought him dead, then foul play was at hand and I was not safe here.

"Doctor Draco Malfoy was assigned to your care upon arrival. Can you not recall what brought you to us, Miss Granger?"

"No." I refrained from shaking my head, it throbbed now with theories and unanswered questions.

"You were on a bus. Do you remember being on a bus?"

"No."

"There was a collision between the bus you were on, and a second bus. You were caught up in the wreckage. It took the paramedics and rescue team some time to get you out." He paused, seeing if I followed. I nodded for him to go on.

"You've sustained a head injury to your forehead. Scans show no further damage, but a concussion seems to be evident. You have three fractured ribs, had a dislocated shoulder which has been treated, and a deep cut to your leg resulted in substantial blood loss requiring a unit-and-a-half of blood." A curious smile tugged at his lips. "It's quite a surprise you are awake already after your ordeal." I swallowed hard.

"Why is Malfoy here, what does he want?"

"He is your assigned doctor."

"No, he's up to something."

"I'm sorry Miss Granger, I do not follow. Do you know Doctor Malfoy?" The man staring at me looked truly confused.

"We went to school together." I replied with caution. His jaw dropped before he grinned.

"From England, ha! What are the odds of that! Well, rest assured, Draco is my best registrar, his quick thinking has saved countless lives tonight, including yours." I stared back, speechless. That didn't sound like the Malfoy I'd known in school and during the war at all.

"Now I understand you'll be feeling a bit of pain. Can you rate it from zero to ten? Ten being the absolute worst, and zero being no pain at all." He smiled encouragingly. I knew pain. The Cruciatus curse was not a pain I would ever forget at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Just a six, I think."

"What hurts the most right now?"

"My head feels like a migraine, but my ribs hurt more, it hurts to breathe."

"Draco has written you up for Fentanyl to help with the pain. Do you have any known allergies?"

"None."

"Excellent." He nodded, scribbling in my notes. "Izzy is your nurse. I'll have her bring you some more pain relief. I need to check on my other patients, but I imagine Draco will be around again soon." He smiled again and taking my notes, disappeared behind the green curtain leaving me alone to my thoughts. Maybe I was safe? But why was Malfoy here, and why did everyone think he was a doctor? A doctor which had saved my life?

* * *

Reviews welcome. :)


	4. Chapter Four

**_Chapter Four_**

* * *

 **~Draco~**

It was sneaky, taking Ellie's blood for testing, but I didn't care. Something was wrong with her. She'd worked long shifts before and had never passed out. Plus, she wasn't one not to eat. If Ellie wouldn't tell me what was going on, her pathology results would.

"Do you want me to run them out?" Adam asked, having ducked his head into the cramped treatment bay used for storage which Ellie now occupied.

"Please." I handed over the sealed bag of tubes and pathology slip. Adam perused it before taking out his pen and adding to my list. "What did you add?" He re-pocketed his pen and looked up at me.

"Just a couple you missed, nothing concerning I promise." His reassuring tone set me a little more at ease. I turned back to Ellie's now peaceful form. She'd half come to, but we'd convinced her to rest. Now she slept, and I reconnected the IV fluids to her second access line in the last two hours.

"I'll be back soon." I placed a careful kiss on her forehead before heading out to wash up and do my rounds. I needed the distraction. Whatever was going on with Ellie was tearing me apart. She was surely unwell. I couldn't lose her. She was all I had.

I checked in on Steph who was sleeping, an oxygen mask strapped to her face. My other patients were all in comfortable states, which led me to Granger's bay. With a sigh, I entered. Sharp, brown eyes immediately met mine.

"What do you want with me, Malfoy?" So, this was the hostile treatment I would be receiving.

"For you to get discharged and back out of my life as soon as possible preferably." I replied, not in the mood for any word sparring without a silencing charm. I began checking her sats, which apart from an irate, slightly elevated heart rate, were all normal.

"Why are you here?" Her next question as demanding as her first.

"Because, as you clearly haven't figured out, this is where I work."

"It can't be, it's a muggle hospital."

"Ten points for how observant you are." I didn't want an interrogation, I wanted her out of my hair, my life! She could ruin everything! I paused at the side of her bed. "Listen Granger, I don't know what ridiculous theories you've concocted under that wild hair of yours, but I work here, I'm happy here, I have a life here, and you will not be opening your big mouth and ruining any of that for me." Swallowing, she nodded. Silenced for now but likely not long.

"Has Adam or Izzy contacted your direct family?"

"No." I pulled out my mobile.

"It better not be anyone who will recognize me."

"No, just my parents. They live here, I'm visiting them."

"Very well. What is their number?" I punched in the number she gave and within one ring tone, the line was picked up.

"Hello?" A male voice answered.

"Hello, this is Doctor Draco Malfoy from the Gold Coast Hospital emergency department-"

"Oh my God, is she alright?" The man cut over me, in clear distress.

"Hermione is doing well, but she was in an accident. I'm here with her now."

"Can we speak to her?" Silently I handed the mobile over.

"Dad?" Her eyes brimmed with tears and I ducked out of the bay to give her some privacy.

I waited ten minutes, using the time to check on Ellie, who still slept, before returning for my mobile and to face Granger once more.

"Thank you." She spoke first, handing my mobile back. I shrugged, pocketing it. "And I'm sorry, for jumping to conclusions."

"I didn't expect an apology." I replied, noting the sheepish look which came over her.

"Well you must understand seeing you here, living in the muggle world, as a doctor no less, its... well it's not what anyone would expect of a Malfoy." I frowned. "I mean after all your prejudice against muggles, following Volde-"

"Believe it or not, people can change and make their own decisions how to lead their lives." I cut over her, a shiver crawling its way down my spine at the name she had nearly spoken. "I was given an out. I chose not to go back. I'm happy here." I needed her to know that. Maybe then she would leave me alone. I twisted the titanium band about my finger. If it was found out I was alive, I'd be put for trial and I imagine sent to Azkaban. I'd lose everything.

"I'm also sorry I scared your uh, wife."

"So much for the statuary of secrecy." I let out a dry laugh, trying to calm my nerves in this precarious situation I'd found myself in. She stared at me in bewilderment.

"She's not a witch?"

"Pardon?" I stared back at her in confusion. "No, Ellie is a muggle." Granger blinked, clearly processing.

"She knows you're a wizard?" The last bit was whispered. I merely nodded.

"Wow... a half-blood Malfoy..."

"Sorry? What are you on about?"

"Your um-" Her hand flew to her mouth. "Nothing, it's nothing."

"My what, Granger?" I stared her down, making her squirm in discomfort. What did she know that I didn't?

"It's not my place..."

"I'm waiting."

"Well um, your uh wife... no it's not my place." Did she know why Ellie was unwell?

"I swear, Granger if you know what's wrong with my wife, you better speak quickly. I can still make your life hell." A good threat had her glaring back at me.

"Fine! She's pregnant!"

"Don't be ridiculous, she is not preg..." Dinner, I'd suggested wine and Ellie had declined. "Merlin, I'm such an idiot! Still the brightest witch then, I have to go!" Without waiting for Granger's response, I took off back to Ellie.

…

Ellie was awake, sitting up in the hospital bed I'd put her in earlier. She gazed wide eyed at me for rushing in unannounced. I sat on the side of the bed and pulled her against me.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't know I was going to pass out."

"No, not that. The reason why you passed out." She stilled. "Are you pregnant?" After a long moment there was a small nod against my collarbone. "Oh, Ellie." I pulled her into a tighter embrace, kissing the top of her head before pulling away. I couldn't have kept the stupid grin off my face if I'd tried! We were going to be parents, Merlin, I was going to be a father!

My elation faltered at Ellie's bewildered expression. It had never occurred to me she might not want this. "You're happy?" Were her baffled words.

"Well yeah of course I am... Aren't you?" She nodded, a smile beginning to take over her face. It was then I noticed she looked lighter as if the entire world had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Oh, you idiot, have you been worrying I wouldn't want this? Is that why you were acting weird?" She nodded.

"We've never discussed it, and well I know you said magic dominates." She lowered her voice, glancing at the curtained off entrance.

"It does, yes."

"Well, I just thought, well because any kid we had would be magical too, you wouldn't want any." I frowned, unsure where she was going with this. "You turned your back on your world."

"That never occurred to me." Leaning back on my arms, I processed the full implications of bringing a child with magic into the world. Schooling. Was there a wizarding school in Australia? What if there wasn't? Could we do what the muggles did and home school? I'd been second highest in my year to Granger, I was intelligent enough to teach magic.

It would be more than schooling though. I'd had an isolated and controlled upbringing. Not to mention the childhood brainwashing by my xenophobic father. I would not be like my father. I would not control my child's beliefs and decisions. It was those poor decisions which had led to my dark past. That past which would undoubtedly tear me from my family when it had barely begun.

"Draco?" I opened my eyes, meeting Ellie's concerned gaze.

"It's fine, we'll work it out." I sat up, pulling her back into my arms. "Let's just be excited right now." She let out a cheery laugh as I peppered her face with kisses.

"We're having a mini us!"

"It's going to be the cutest damn kid on the planet!" I smirked, finally tasting her elated smile. There was a lot to figure out, but we'd hopefully have a few years before I would need to return to the wizarding world. I just had to hope Granger would cooperate.

 **~Hermione~**

Izzy, the nurse assigned to me was tasked with keeping me awake for as long as possible, to monitor my concussion. I still couldn't remember what had happened or getting on the bus. Perhaps that was a good thing? Did I really need more haunting memories? It was strange enough Malfoy had reappeared.

It was disconcerting being on muggle painkillers. My mind was fuzzy at the edges, or perhaps it was the concussion? Although my ribs were tightly bandaged, it hurt when Izzy helped me from the bed to walk me to the bathroom.

The halls were quiet, yet the lights were bright, making up for the silence. Here and there, machines clicked or beeped as we passed bays of other patients. A male voice spoke from one, a voice I recognized as Malfoy's. It was followed by a soft, happy laugh. The bay curtain was half open as we passed. Curious, I slowed to peer in.

Malfoy was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, the blonde woman he'd called Ellie, and who was his wife, wrapped in his arms. There was a grin on his face which stunned me. I'd never seen Malfoy grin like that. It was genuine, happy.

"Callista for a girl? What about Elara? Is that still starry enough for you?" The woman teased, and Malfoy's grin widened.

"Ah, I might get my starry way yet!" He chuckled, kissing her cheek. Then we'd passed the bay and my mind was left spinning. Malfoy really wasn't up to anything. My mother had told me over the phone to give him the benefit of the doubt. What I'd just seen was proof. He'd said he was happy, that this was his life. All I'd heard was good words about him from the other doctor, and my nurse.

Still, I had so many questions. How had he escaped Voldemort's rule before Harry had destroyed him? Why had his own mother claimed he was dead and mourned him?

I did not have long to wait. No sooner had I painstakingly settled back into my hospital bed, Malfoy appeared, advising my nurse to take a break. "I believe congratulations are in order?" I spoke first, startled again when a grin lit up his features.

"Thank you, Granger." He watched me, grin falling away.

"You said I'm supposed to be dead. How?"

"The battle of Hogwarts. You were, well your mother told the authorities you'd been incinerated in the crossfire by a Deatheater's spell. There was uh, evidence apparently that it was you." He nodded slowly, mouth set in a thin line.

"I suppose that's why no one ever came after me."

"Maybe. Why have you never come back?" He bowed his head, looking away.

"Because I'd be sent to Azkaban. It's why my mother sent me away, to avoid going there if he," he swallowed. "If Voldemort was defeated, or death from the bastard if he lived. Now I've got too much to lose if I went back. I'm happy here." I noticed how his voice struggled, each word shaky after uttering Voldemort's name. Deatheaters never uttered his name, for it was disrespectful. They were to only address him as the Dark Lord. Draco was a Deatheater, but he had uttered Voldemort's name. It was in fear and barely controlled disgust.

"I don't know… I don't know what the Ministry would do if you returned." Unconsciously he rubbed at one of his sleeved arms. I knew what was hidden beneath. The mark of a Deatheater. The mark and proof the ministry relied on to send all the surviving Deatheaters to Azkaban. All except one, the one who stood before me.

"Your mother was pardoned." I offered, unsure why I was trying to comfort him. Draco Malfoy had done terrible things.

"My mother is free then?"

"Yes, I don't know if you know, but she lied to Voldemort about Harry being dead that night. Her lie helped us win the war." I paused, watching him.

"She's never contacted me. What of my father?" I couldn't help my scowl of disdain for that excuse of a wizard.

"He claimed he'd been under the imperius curse, family threatened, but it was discovered the Dark Mark could not be given or taken without the full will of the receiver. It was how Voldemort ensured he could trust those in his inner circle. He is in Azkaban with the other Deatheaters." I unthinkingly explained. I was met with several moments of silence. He could never go back. The realisation saddened me. Yet, he seemed truly happy here. It was the life he had now it seemed he was afraid to lose. He was going to be a father. He had married a muggle, a muggle! As I stared back up at the wizard before me, I saw no trace of the cruelty from our school years, nor the boy during the war. I was not staring into the eyes of a Deatheater. "Would you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"How you came to be changed?" He didn't look thrilled by the idea. "Please, I'm meant to stay awake, aren't I? Besides, my parents are still an hour away." His gaze became calculated, then to something I was familiar with from him, scheming.

"I'll tell you everything on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You're not to tell a single soul I am alive, and that I am here. I don't want my past destroying my future." His gaze was near pleading, fear swirling in his wide grey eyes. I swallowed, realising I held his entire life in my hands. If I refused, what would he do? It didn't matter, I knew I could not refuse him. He'd been given a second chance, and it seemed he'd chosen to atone for his past.

"Okay, that's more than fair." I conceded. He nodded, seeming relieved by my answer for the way his shoulders minutely relaxed, a slow breath leaving him.

"Where do you wish me to start?" He hedged after another moment.

"Well, you said your mother sent you here. I guess start from there." He closed his eyes, taking in a quick breath before opening them again.

"Alright, then I guess the beginning was at the end of the battle at Hogwarts..."

* * *

Reviews welcome. :)


	5. Chapter Five

_**Chapter Five**_

* * *

 **~Draco~**

Despite the burns, cuts and whatever other damage, I was numb. Harry Potter, the chosen one, the one who was meant to stop the Dark Lord, was dead. I stared at his ashen, lifeless body, held by a sobbing Hagrid. Around me, there was silence, shock and then the screams of loss. McGonagall's followed by Granger and the Weaslette. The light side had lost. The side I now stood among in the entrance to Hogwarts.

Outrage broke out and I too wanted to scream. Scream at the blood-eyed monster who had won.

"Silence!" His voice cracked off the broken walls, and it was not only me who stilled in fear.

The Dark Lord spoke again now he had our attention, his voice smug, victorious. He had won. It meant we had all lost. The torment would continue, until he grew bored or angry and then we would die. In that moment I wanted to die. Death was better than the fear, the torture, the blood shed.

Longbottom, you stupid fool! I stared at the Gryffindor as he attempted to stand up to the Dark Lord, and was beaten for it, humiliated by the Deatheaters. They'd kill him, they'd kill them all. Beyond the disturbing scene playing out before me, there was a crash and a bellow. Before I could wonder at it, all madness broke loose and the lifeless Harry Potter, who had ended up splayed on the ground, had vanished. Was he alive? A jet of green from a Deatheater's wand soared towards me and I dove sideways and ran back into the castle. I wanted out. Ducking and dodging around spells, terrified without any wand, for Potter had mine and I'd lost mother's in the Fiendfire, I sought safety just like the coward everyone said I was.

The air was tinged with the scent of ash, and blood, and flesh; Heavy with the screams of pain and death. When would it stop? A spell flew my way as my aunt Bellatrix aimed and missed Molly Weasley. I wasn't fast enough, and it sent me staggering, gasping for air when it collided with my chest. I felt blood and panicked, remembering the spell Potter had used on me in sixth year. Stumbling away, I headed for the stairs, taking two at a time. At the top I skidded to a halt, hearing my name from behind.

"Thank Circe, you're alive!" It was my mother. Quickly she ushered me into a classroom and away from the door.

"Mother, where is father?" I don't know why I asked. Foolish loyalty to a man who had caused me nothing but pain these past few years in his beliefs in a madman.

"Trying to get himself killed." She replied darkly, but her wide eyes, terrified as I felt, bellied her true feelings. "You need to run, Draco. No matter who wins, you'll be in danger. If he wins, no matter your skill, your life will be forfeit. If they win, you'll be sent to Azkaban, or worse." Tears were streaming down her cheeks and my throat closed up. My mother had never been like this.

"I can't run from him." I choked out, revealing the mark branded upon my forearm, telling the world I was a Deatheater, that I was magically linked to him.

"What choice do you have?" That was just it. I never had a choice.

"Where would I go and how?" I hissed. Frustrated she would try and force such pitiful hope upon me. She thrust a bag into my hands.

"Everything you need is in there. I've put an undetectable extension charm on it. Then she was opening a small box, revealing a miniaturized racing broom.

"It's a portkey. It will take you to safety." Safety? I couldn't remember what that was.

"What about you?"

"I'll cover for you. Go Draco." There was a crash, the door blasting off its hinges as a fight took place in the hall outside. We both jumped.

"Ah, the Malfoy runt." A familiar voice snarled. Greyback stalked into the room, followed by Rowle.

"May as well do the Dark Lord a favour." His toothless smirk held me rooted to the spot as he raised his wand.

"Not yet, want to see what centuries of pureblood perfection tastes like." Greyback rumbled, moved closer and I stepped back just as a wave of purple light crashed into his chest, throwing him back.

"Run Draco, don't look back!" Mother ordered, forcing the once again closed box into my hand. I ran, skittering around the Werewolf and Deatheater, again dodging wayward spells. I raced up to the third level and kept going, until I couldn't hear anyone chasing after me. There I ripped open the box and grasped onto the miniature broomstick. It grew to its original size, and as I felt the sickening pull of my bellybutton, I instinctively leapt onto the broom, clinging on for dear life as everything spun away.

I gasped, cold rain pounding at me from all directions. Where was I? I could barely control the broom, barely see up from down. The wind twisted the broom in mid-air, nearly unseating me. The air roared and flashes of light through the rain sent fear pounding through me. Was it wand-fire or lightening?

Before I could figure it out, a blast of wind sent the broom I clung desperately onto spiralling downwards. I tried to pull back on the handle, but I couldn't find the strength...

 **~Ellie~**

Breaking glass and a loud crash from the living area had me dropping my glass of water and ripping the biggest knife out of the knife block on the kitchen counter. Outside the storm raged loudly, and I couldn't hear anything more from the living area over the wind and rain.

Holding the knife out and my flashlight in the other, I tiptoed around the kitchen area and into the adjoining lounge space. The only lights I had on were the kitchen rangehood light, and the hallway. I could just make out a shadowy form in a heap upon the floor by the three-seater lounge, and now the storm sounded louder. Breath held, I felt at the wall and flicked on the light.

Shards of glass lay scattered everywhere. Water was beginning to pool on the walnut floorboards around the black heap, which was a guy lying bloodied beside the lounge, soaked through by the storm. I watched, rooted to the spot, save for the knife pointed shakily at the intruder as he tried to rise from the ground with a groan. It was now I wished I carried the Nokia mobile which my parents had bought me for my birthday a week earlier. It was upstairs on my nightstand.

"I've called the police!" I shouted in bluff when the intruder attempted to gather the mass of black material he wore. Was it a giant overcoat? It was a harsh contrast to the terrified, ghostly face which looked up at me, to the knife pointed at him, hoping he'd stay back. His lip had been recently cut, a purpling bruise creeping up to his cheekbone. His eyes darted away from the knife and about the living area, seeming to take in all my belongings. Was he going to rob me? Oh my gosh, did he have a gun?

His eyes snapped back to mine, somehow wider and filled with growing fear. "Stay back!" He yelled, scrambling backwards through the broken glass. I inched forward, knife still extended. "No, stay back, muggle!" His breathing was laboured, coming out in shallow breaths. There was a darkening patch on his once grey shirt which wasn't from the rain. Was he seriously injured? He'd obviously come through the sky-light. I hedged towards him.

"Please, please don't hurt me. I'm sorry!" He cried out, eyes terrified, a shaking hand thrust out to stave off my approach.

"I won't hurt you... if you don't hurt me." I stumbled on something between the couch and coffee table, glass needling through my socks. It was a wooden broom handle. I paused, eyes following the length to its end and the strangely smooth bristles and strange silver stand. It wasn't mine. It was the strangest broom I'd seen. Stepping over it, I crouched down. The guy looked like he was going to pass out.

"Please don't hurt me, I didn't want to do any of it!" He choked out, trying to stand and instead stumbling. I couldn't work out why, but I decided he wasn't a danger to me, maybe because I knew he was injured, and for some strange reason he was petrified. He really believed I would harm him. I leapt back up to my feet and latched onto his arm as he stumbled again, manoeuvring him to collapse on the lounge instead of the floor. "I don't really want to die, please, please don't hurt me." He muttered, pushing me away. His movements were feeble.

"I promise I won't hurt you." I tried soothing, wondering if he was possibly mentally unwell. How had he crashed through my skylight? Had he climbed on the roof... oh my God... a coldness swept through me as I realised exactly what had happened and what his jumbled words meant.

He'd attempted suicide off the apartment building which towered beside my two-level single apartment. He shook violently as I reached out, taking his freezing hand in mine. "Please, no."

"Shh, it's okay you're okay." He stared at me with haunted grey eyes, and I wondered what had brought him to such a brink that he would choose death. For a split second he seemed to calm before he jerked violently and on instinct, I leapt back. An agonized scream tore from his lips and suddenly he was clawing at the loose sleeve of his right arm as if it were on fire.

He tore the sleeve up his arm, revealing a dark tattoo upon his forearm, crying out again, now clawing at the ink mark. "Hey, stop you'll hurt yourself!" I hurried back towards him, grasping his left hand, pushing his right one away before he drew blood.

"No!" He screamed, feebly fighting against me, trying to scratch at the tattoo again.

"Its okay, there's nothing-" The tattoo, it was moving. Writhing... I dropped his wrist and he grasped it in his other hand with choked gasps of pain. It was the body of a snake which writhed from the gaping jaw of a human skull, its fanged mouth gnashing. Although the skull did not move, it now looked to be screaming as the coils bulged and shrank.

"No, no!" He cried out hoarsely, voice failing him. The tattoo or whatever it was now bled black ink, its writhing turning to thrashing. He stilled suddenly, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream which sent chills through me. And then he went completely limp, gasping and shaking. I glanced at the tattoo. It was no longer moving, now a washed-out version of what it had originally been.

"Its alright, it's over now." I wasn't trying to convince only him, but myself too. I didn't know what that tattoo thing was, but I knew calling an ambulance or the police to help him was now out of the question until I at least did know what it was.

Carefully I picked up his arm, examining the unnatural but seemingly now dead tattoo. "Its, its stopped." He rasped, gazing at the fading mark upon his pale flesh. "Its, he's gone. He's gone." He went on. I tentatively ran my fingers over the skull and snake, suppressing a shudder. It was some kind of brand, by the raised skin, although it felt more as if it was beneath his skin.

"He's gone, he's gone." He kept whispering those words over and over, as if reassuring himself.

"Yeah, he's gone." I comforted. "You are safe now." He managed a shaky nod, still trembling. I remembered he was still soaked through from the rain and injured from the fall. There was the blood and smaller cuts too, not to mention the ash.

"What's your name?" He didn't answer, only stared at me. "My names Ellie. You are safe here, I promise." My mind was reeling with theories on how he'd came to be in my living area now, what his living brand was. I'd read and watched enough sci-fi, fantasy and supernatural stories, and although they were made up, whatever was going on with his arm was scarily not. He was shaking in earnest now and needed to get dry.

"Can you stand?" He didn't answer but begun struggling from the lounge to his feet. I felt him flinch when I helped, taking his arm. Even slumped, he was quite tall. His breathing was quick and panicky. "You need to get warm and dry." I began manoeuvring him towards the stairs at the other side of the living area. He let me guide him, moving slowly. The stairs were an awkward negotiation, and then I was pulling back the doona and sheet on the spare queen bed and with a defeated sigh, he collapsed onto the sage sheeted mattress.

"I'm going to take off your um coat and shirt, or you'll freeze." He stared at me with those haunted eyes while my shaking hands found and undid the strange clasps on his jet-black cloak. The shirt beneath was more familiar and I easily worked open the buttons. Trembling he began helping, sitting up so I could pull the saturated garments away and toss them on the floor.

I grabbed a spare blanket and pulled it about his shaking shoulders. Now for the bottom half. I moved quickly, pulling off the strange leathery material his sturdy boots were made of. His socks weren't wet like everything else, so I left them. His pants though...

"Can you get your pants off by yourself?" He stared back at me a moment before long fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt. I pulled the sheet over him, to give him some form of modesty as he shuffled the damp trousers from his hips. He was struggling, exhaustion setting in once more. Reaching for the trouser bottoms I helped, tugging until they too were discarded upon the floor.

He remained silent as I pulled the doona up to his chin and knelt at the right side of the bed, fishing around for the electric blanket switch. I flicked it to the third setting. It wouldn't take long to warm up, I'd have to remember to lower it again within the hour.

He was injured, but there seemed nothing life threatening. He smelt of ash and smoke and there were cuts and burns I had now noticed which needed treatment. He also looked half starved. His body was gaunt, ribs and spine protruding. Wherever he had come from, there was no way he was going back.

"Your safe. Try and rest." He continued watching me. I was certain he was in shock, had been since his brand tattoo thing had died. I felt awkward under his gaze. Was he still afraid? Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached out, brushing his damp blonde hair from his forehead.

His watchful gaze slowly vanished under weary lashes. I lingered a moment until I was sure he was asleep before shifting off the bed. Scooping up his garments, I ran them down to the laundry, throwing them into the washer. No idea what the coat was made of, but certain the shirt was quite expensive, I set the load to delicate, only just remembering to check pockets.

There was nothing in his trouser pockets, but there was something within the large inner pocket of the strange hooded coat. I pulled out and instantly dropped a mask which sent chills through me. It clattered upon the white tiles, intricate moguls gleaming silver under the bright light.

It looked like it had come from the most sinister horror movie. The half-opened lips were barred, the eye slits soulless. With shaking hands, I picked it up and shoved it up on the bench, throwing a towel over it. It gave me the same nervous feeling the tattoo brand had, although the mask was scarier.

Turning the washer on, I left the laundry and the creepy mask behind. A quick check on my patient slash uninvited guest assured me he slept soundly for now. I didn't want to leave him alone for too long, but I needed to close the up the broken sky-light.

Hurrying back down to the kitchen, I grabbed a bar stool, taking it into the living area and placing it under the falling rain, I clambered up, standing precariously on my tiptoes as I tried avoiding the remaining shards of glass as I reached for the outer shutter and hauled on its rope, bringing it slamming down. More glass rained down on me and I cursed, realising I didn't avoid the glass edges after all, two lines of blood smearing with the rain on my left forearm. Glancing down for a glass free place to jump from the stool, I noticed a black leather satchel lying behind the lounge.

I leapt down safely, hurrying to the kitchen to wash off my bleeding wrist, haphazardly wrapping it in paper towel, before returning for the satchel. It was a shoulder bag really, the type a student would carry, and clearly expensive by the soft leather and two gleaming silver buckles. I brought it into the kitchen, undoing the buckles and peered in, hoping for answers, perhaps a wallet with identification?

It looked empty. Frowning, I reached in to fish about. My hands caught onto two envelopes. Both were heavy papered and bore plain black wax seals which had not been broken.

On one was scrawled, Mr and Mrs Greene. My parents? On the other envelope it simply said, My Son. Certain the second would hold more answers assuming it was addressed to my visitor, I opened it. The parchment, because it sure wasn't paper, was blank. Confused, I held it up to the hallway light, but no words appeared. Strange. Returning it to the envelope, I opened the one which was addressed to my parents, mentally high fiving myself when words appeared on the page. Wait, appeared! I dropped the letter, scooting away from it as row after row of elegant scrawl appeared on what had been blank parchment.

How was it doing that? It must have been light sensitive, or maybe like those 3D Loony Toons Tazos I collected as a kid? Nothing else made sense. Reaching forward, I picked it up and watched in fascination as the elegant black inked scrawl continued until a signature was scrawled upon the bottom. _Cissa._ Bringing my focus to the beginning of the letter, I began to read.

 _Dearest Mr and Mrs Greene,_

 _If you are reading this, my son has found safety._

 _I am unsure if you remember meeting me? I was the young woman, Cissa, you met at Cala Goloritzé, Sardinia, in the Italian summer of 1988. My husband was attending business, and I had taken my then eight-year-old son to a nearby secluded beach where we met you._

 _You saved my son, when he wandered too far into the ocean and was swept up by the waves. I am still forever grateful to this day. You saved his life when I could not do so myself._

 _I have kept the address you gave me of your home in Australia, in case we ever wished to visit. It is with heavy heart I now ask of you to help my son again. The world we are from is in peril, his life in grave danger. He is a grown young man of seventeen in the eyes of our society, but in truth he is just a boy. A boy who was forced down a path he could not refuse. Just as I was._

 _I have sent him here with all the documents and finance he will need to start a new life. He is quite unlike you, but I have learnt as now he too has; we all bleed the same. Please help him find his feet, your world is nothing like he has known. My only wish is he finds peace._

 _I know he will be safe with you._

 _Yours_

 _Cissa_

I read through the letter five more times, only growing more confused. It now sounded like he had been a part of some terrible cult and his mother had helped him escape. Were there cults in Australia? Where were his so-called credentials? There was nothing else in the bag, and that was all which had been on him.

Was the cult in the building beside mine, had jumping from it been his escape? No, that made no sense because the letter I held was addressed to my parents, which meant he had deliberately come here.

Once upon a time this had been their holiday apartment away from the farm. It was now my batch pad for university, before that it had been my brother's. So, who ever he was, he was kind of sort of meant to be here. It still made absolutely no sense why he'd come through the skylight. Why hadn't he used the door? Why climb the roof? Perhaps he knocked, and I hadn't heard, and because the door was locked, he was trying to find another way in? No, that didn't really make sense either. Who on earth would climb a two-story roof during a thunderstorm? The balcony was closer for a start.

 _We all bleed the same._ That line ran through my mind, over and over as I made my way back into the living area to clean up the broken glass and assess the storm damage. Why would she write that? It was surely a cult he'd left. It almost sounded like an anti-racism quote...

Save for the strange broom, a wet mat and some leaves and sticks, there was nothing else out of the ordinary in the living area once the glass was cleared away. I picked up the broom, studying it. The handle was oddly shaped, an elegant scrawl on its flatter sides read _Nimbus 2001._ The wood was polished to a gleam, save for dirt and a couple bloodstains now upon it, and three splinters.

The bristles were the strangest. Bound neatly by a silver ring of steel, all moulded to end at a perfect point. The silver stand type contraction reminded me of something you'd use to keep a motorbike upright, except it was much more elegant. Whatever this broom was, it wasn't for sweeping the floor. Maybe it wasn't even a broom?

I propped it up against the wall, out of the way. What else could you use a broom for anyway? _Witches used brooms._ A voice whispered in my mind. I scoffed quietly to myself for such a crazy thought. It was probably an ornament. A really weird ornament from God knows what century. Dismissing all thought of it, I headed up the stairs. Now he was hopefully warm enough, I could figure out his injuries.

He hadn't moved, but he had stopped shivering as badly. It was a start. I switched the electric blanket down to one, not wanting to roast him under all the blankets. Angling the nightlight so it flooded over him, but kept his face in shadow, I recalled what I'd briefly seen of his injuries.

Making a mental list, I headed back down to the laundry, avoiding the hidden mask as I grabbed clean towels, a couple face washers and my slightly over elaborate first aid kit box. Carrying everything, I headed to the kitchen, flicking on the kettle before grabbing a few Tupperware containers and hauling my loot up to the spare room.

Once the water had boiled, I set the kettle on the towel covered study table I'd converted into a makeshift medical trolley. Everything I should need was laid out, and once I'd discarded the soiled paper-towel around my own wrist and secured a clean bandage around it, I approached the spare bed to see what I was dealing with.

I peeled back the blankets, sheet and doona to his hips, waiting for him to stir, but he didn't. I was glad he was unconscious because what I saw left me shocked. There were burns on his arms, both old and fresh. Nothing third degree, but second at worst. Older burns had been third degree though, from the healing scars. A great mottling bruise spread across his left ribs, and cuts and scratches were dispersed across his chest and torso. A deeper cut which slowly bled stood out just above his heart. What shocked me was all the silvery scars beneath the fresh cuts, grime and bruises.

Some were small and would likely fade one day. Others were deep, long and vicious. They wrapped around his sides and I imagined continued across his back. What had he been through to end up like this? His mother had sent him here with the intentions of my parents helping him. Mum and dad were hours away, but I was certainly capable to do it for them.

I started off trying to wash some of the dirt and ash from his body, arms and face. The scent of smoke clung to him, as it had his tattered and burnt clothes. Where had he come from? How could anyone be in such an abused state, for I was certain most of his injuries, and his scars were no accident. I'd have to wait until he woke up to learn those answers.

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 _Reviews welcome. :)_


	6. Chapter Six

_**Chapter Six**_

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 **~Draco~**

Cruel, harsh laughter echoed about the darkness as I struggled against the crushing weight in my chest. Pain seared its way through to my heart and I screamed, begging them to stop, trying to get away. It was no use, they had me tied down, I couldn't free my legs! Pain hit me again and I struggled against my bonds, screaming at them to stop again. Light flared to my right and I jerked away, awaiting the sting or burn or cut of another curse.

"Hey, hey wake up!" Someone was speaking, and I felt hands pulling at me.

"No, stop! No!" When would they leave me alone? When would they kill me and end this?

"Hey, it's alright. You're safe, you're safe." My legs were now free, and I calmed a little, realizing I'd been having a dream perhaps. I felt a cloth at my forehead and focused towards the light. Sea blue eyes watched me with worry. I remembered now, this was a muggle.

I launched myself away from her, letting out a groan of pain from the action. My head spun, but I needed to get away from her before she harmed me. She'd had that knife! No, she'd helped me to this bed. She'd taken my wet clothes and now I was hot, really hot. What had she done to me? The cool air pricked at my skin and I shivered, and then I couldn't stop.

"You've got a fever." Instantly her hands were at my shoulders. "Lie back, you're not well." Her voice was filled with concern, each word gentle. There was no malice. Perhaps she didn't mean me harm? I could hardly resist her steady pressure and fell back against the pillows. The room seemed to be spinning.

I think she left, I wasn't sure, but then she was at my side again holding a glass. "You need to drink this, it will help." I eyed the green liquid fearfully. What potion was this? "Its safe, see." As if reading my mind, she took the glass to her lips and downed a mouthful. I was thirsty... The glass was brought to my own lips and slowly I drank the liquid. It was lime flavoured and sweet, and I wanted more of it.

"Please, more." I rasped, shocked by my lack of voice. She obliged, getting up and refilling the glass from a frosted pitcher.

"Just drink slowly or you'll make yourself sick." I managed a nod, this time drinking the cooling liquid slower. After my third glass I felt a little better, but still I shook although my body burned. I tried pushing the blankets away, but that only made me shake harder.

"I put two dissolvable Panadol in your first drink, it will help with this fever." I didn't know what that was but nodded anyway. She took up a cloth again and wiped at my forehead. I watched her, trying to understand why she would help me when I'd done terrible things to her kind. One thing I did know on instinct, I was safe here with her.

"What's your name?" She eventually asked, eyes curious.

"Draco." I found my voice again. They widened in surprise. It was rather unique, even in the wizarding world. "Yours?"

"Ellie."

"Ellie." I repeated. She smiled and despite everything, her smile gave me hope that perhaps everything would be alright.

I must have fallen asleep, for I awoke freezing. The blankets were gone, and I struggled up, trying to find them. The coldness seeped like ice through my veins and I could barely move for how I shook. Aunt Bella had made me feel like this until I'd begged her to stop through chattering teeth. She would laugh manically and then burned me. Was she here? Was she doing this?

A female silhouette appeared in the doorway before me. It was her, would she burn me again? She advanced, and I wanted to hide but couldn't. My shaking bones were my shackles. "Please no, not again." I begged her, stomach roiling by what would come next. A hand reached out. "No, please don't burn me again, please." The hand retreated, and I heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Hey, it's alright." It wasn't Auntie Bella's voice, the woman was younger, her hair a gold halo where lamplight touched it. "Its just me, Ellie, remember?" Ellie, the muggle girl. I remembered now. I was safe. I was really safe. I tried to calm my breathing but could hardly take a deep breath for my shivering. She moved around the bed and suddenly blankets were surrounding me once more.

"Thank you." I chattered, and she smiled like she had last time.

"I made soup, would you like some to warm up?" I nodded, and she disappeared. Moments later she returned with a blue and white striped mug. I stared at it dubiously. Where was the spoon? Or the bowl for that matter?

"Its mostly pumpkin, couple carrots and some ginger and capsicum." She rattled off the ingredients, holding the mug out to me. I wrapped my shaking hands around it, realizing I was meant to drink it like a beverage. Deciding now probably wasn't the time to question table manners or the lack of cutlery, I took a small sip, followed by another.

It was good, really good. I drank slowly until it was gone, the warmth spreading through me. I was still cold, but the shaking had ceased to occasional shivers.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, taking the mug from my hands to set on a bedside table.

"Cold, I feel weak." She nodded.

"You need to keep resting. It's still quite early in the morning." I was bone weary, but sleep meant those haunting memories. I just wanted to forget everything. All the fear and pain and bloodshed. Sleep left me alone to those nightmares. She stood, making to leave.

"Don't go!" I called out before I could stop myself, panic trying to surface and smother. She paused, lips parted as if she would say something.

"I'm just grabbing something to read, I'll be back." She disappeared and was back in an instant. I sagged against the pillows in relief as she perched herself on the edge of the bed.

"What are you reading?" The book was quite large, not a novel as I'd expected.

"The Top Medical Journals from 1970-1997." Healing but for muggles, I realised. "More specifically, Toxicological Pathology." I knew half of what she said meant toxins, and path, was Latin derived from Greek for disease in simple terms. She flicked through the pages until she found the one she wished to read.

Closing my eyes, I tried to rest as she had suggested. All I could see was the manic face of Bellatrix Lestrange as she used me for target practice. No, she wasn't here. She couldn't find me. Could she? I opened my eyes, focusing on the muggle girl while she read in silence, pushing back a golden tress of hair which fell over her face every now and then.

"Would you read some out loud?" She looked away from her book, seeming to regard me a moment.

"It will probably bore you, but sure." A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she focused on the page once more, this time reading aloud. It wasn't really what she read, it was her voice I wished to hear. I found I understood most of the muggle healing book she read, especially when she moved onto pharmacology in relation. I figured out it related to things like potions and poisons and safe levels in the body. She read on and her voice lulled me into finally closing my eyes, this time not seeing nightmares of only a couple days ago, only peaceful darkness.

Warm sunlight met my eyes when I next awoke. It must have been morning. I could hear a bird whistling nearby outside, a strange rhythmic whooshing sound a little further away, and music from somewhere in the muggle dwelling I'd found myself safe in last night.

Pushing myself up, I was glad the room didn't spin, and I was no longer shivering or cold for that matter. My body did ache as a whole, and there was a dull throbbing pain at my chest, and my arms felt uncomfortable. Pushing the blankets away, I assessed myself. There were crisp white bandages on my arms, and over my heart a strange healing dressing which covered where the dull pain was coming from. There were four smaller healing dressings, from my left shoulder down to my right hip bone.

The muggle girl had tried to heal me. I'd have to finish the job. Out of habit, I reached towards the bedside table, freezing when my memory caught up with the action. I didn't have a wand. Any wand. I couldn't heal myself. I couldn't defend myself, and if I wished to leave, I had no idea how.

Coldness swept over me. Without a wand I was without my magic, save for the very little I could do wandless. Without a wand, I was helpless. Helpless just like a muggle.

I pulled myself out of the bed, unsure what to do when I discovered I only wore underwear. The muggle girl had taken my clothes! I glanced around, not fond of the idea of using a pillowcase like some common house elf. A familiar shoulder bag caught my eye and on barely steady feet, I snatched it up. Surely mother had put clothing in it? Mother… my throat burned, tears threatening to spill. What had happened to my mother?

Swallowing, I fished around inside the bag, gladdened I knew wandless accio. My head hurt when I summoned a clean shirt and slacks, leaving me dizzy for some moments before I could stand to dress.

Once clothed, I stood at the doorway, unsure if it was safe to leave the room. The muggle girl hadn't harmed me, she just seemed helpful, nice. She'd tried to heal me. She'd assured I was safe. Taking a chance which set my heart pounding, I left the room and made my way down the wooden stairs; noting how airy and bright the muggle dwelling was. It was very clean. I'd always been told muggles were unkempt in the way they lived.

I followed the upbeat music, taking note of black and white framed photos which did not move upon the walls. One was the muggle girl sitting astride a tall, dark coloured horse in a pale field overlooking the sea. It was dated nineteen-ninety-six, two years ago.

So much had happened in the space of two years... It was strange to see a captured memory in this frame which depicted such freedom and peace when I had sold my soul to a madman who started a war.

Shaking myself, I continued until I stood in the entrance of a kitchen. The muggle girl was turned away from me, faintly singing along to the music playing from a small black, rectangular contraption that was attached by a black tether to the wall. The air was filled with the sweet scent of maple syrup and my mouth watered. The muggle girl's shoulders stiffened, and she turned, those sea blue eyes locking onto mine, widening in surprise.

"Hey, you're up." She mustered a friendly smile, but it masked uncertainty. I nodded, attention drawn to the whisk in her hand. "Do you like pancakes? I know, silly question, everyone likes pancakes." She grinned before her eyes dropped from mine, assessing my attire with confusion. "You found your clothes in the dryer, sorry I didn't put them out for you, I forgot." She hastily stifled a yawn, turning towards a large ceramic bowl. Dryer? I was unsure how to reply, and admittedly more than a little nervous.

"These won't take long, She began to vigorously whisk the ingredients which were already in the bowl, simultaneously turning a knob on her very strange and very small white oven?

"How are you feeling?" She asked, still turned away from me as she added butter into the frying pan now on the stove, swirling it about before pouring in some of the mixture and swirling the pan again. I'd never exactly watched anyone cook before, not even house elves.

"Hungry." I answered truthfully. It was the easier answer than explaining my fear and confusion and all the other mixed emotions. There was the dull pain in my chest and other injuries, not to mention the occasional stabbing sensation throughout my body from the after effects of too many hits of the cruciatus curse.

"I can fix hungry." She flashed me a smile and I decided I liked her smile. It was genuine, friendly and warm. Something I wasn't used to, but found I wanted to see more of. It was calming to know wherever I was, it was away from pain and despair. Away from war, and from him.

I glanced down at the horrible brand upon my arm and the breath left my lungs. It was faded, washed out. The cursed, dark magic had left it. He had left it. It could only mean one thing... I felt light with the waves of relief which washed over me. He was gone, surely for good? Which meant… it meant I was free...

"Let's sit you down." A soft voice broke through my revelations and hands took my arms, guiding me from the kitchen until I was sitting on a plush couch. I hadn't realised I was shaking until she grabbed my hands, stilling them in hers. "Its alright, your safe here." I nodded, still stunned.

"He's gone."

"Whose gone?" She gently asked, blue eyes holding mine.

"He's, the D...Dark Lord..."

"Does, he, have a name?" I shuddered, knowing the consequences of speaking it out loud.

"I can't say." I managed to whisper, lowering my gaze from those fierce eyes.

"Did he give you this?" Fingers traced hesitantly over my faded brand. I nodded, staring at it, unable to believe after everything, he was gone. Had Potter done it? It was said only Potter could destroy him. "Does it hurt?"

"No... not anymore." I realised aloud, more relief filling me. I'd been so used to the constant feel of the snake under my skin, that now I knew it was gone I felt as if I'd been realised from a terrible darkness.

"Do you remember last night?" She asked. I was unsure, what was real and what was nightmare? "It was hurting you, the um snake. It was writhing as if it were dying and the ink started bleeding from it until it stopped and looks like it does now."

"He really must be destroyed." I shook my head, coming to terms with her description and the faded mark upon my forearm. "Which means I really am free..."

"Yeah, you're free." The girl agreed, letting go of my hand. I learned back feeling giddy with relief. My hand landed on something bumpy beside me on the couch cushions and suddenly I was surrounded by the familiar screams and cries of war and despair. I leapt up, panicked, wheeling to where through a rectangle window, the battle had erupted from. No, no! There were people falling among rubble, flashes of light and loud cracks of what was surely apparition.

I'd been wrong, he wasn't dead, the war, the destruction still went on. It was never going to end. I stumbled back, around the furniture. I couldn't take any more of this. Why had I entertained safety? How could I be safe with a muggle? He'd kill her or worse, then he'd do the same to me for accepting her help. I was no better than a blood traitor, a turn cloak! We had to get out of here! There were more cracks of apparition and without a moment to lose, I grabbed her arm, hauling her towards the stairs. Wait, there was my broom! I grabbed it with my other hand. I couldn't wandlessly apparate, but perhaps we could escape by flight? Halfway up the stairs I realised she was speaking, pleading me to stop.

"No, no he'll kill me, he'll kill you!" I rushed out.

"Its okay, there's no one here, it was just the TV. You're safe."

"No, we have to go!" She tugged on my arm and I found I was still too weak, I couldn't fight her. "No, he's going to kill us!"

"Its alright, he's not here. There's no one here, just us. It's just us."

"No!" I tried to pull her up the remainder of the stairs, but she wouldn't budge. My foot slipped, and I landed heavily on a step. She let go, spinning to race back down the stairs. "Stop, please stop! They'll torture you!" I followed her, heart slamming against my ribs. I should have left her and ran, but I couldn't. She'd helped me, and I couldn't bear any more bloodshed. I didn't want to be the cause of another death.

I burst into the living area to silence. No more sounds of battle, the window only displaying darkness. I stared at it, confused. It wasn't a window. It was something else, entirely inside the dwelling. A Sears mirror? I didn't know. "Its okay, it was just the television, I've turned it off." Her hands were grasping my shaking ones again.

"But the fighting..."

"It wasn't real, just pretend. No ones going to hurt you. You're safe here." A choked sob clawed its way from my chest and I felt my knees buckling. Her grip slowing my fall.

"I thought, I thought..." I gasped in air, feeling panicky by what I was so sure was happening until she'd somehow vanished it away.

"Shh, just breathe, it's okay." Her hand stroked a soothing pattern between my shoulders and my ragged breaths began to lessen, to deepen. I clutched her other hand in mine, reluctant to let go. It was then my tears finally fell, as if the well I'd been pushing all my emotions down for the past couple years had broken. All my mistakes, all the horrors, the pain, the death and the constant fear.

Arms wrapped gently about me and I clung desperately to her, emotions stripping me bare, leaving me exhausted.

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 _ **Reviews welcome.**_

 _ForsakenKalika - Thanks, think that means I better find Ellie some flaws!_


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